In plain words
They came, bless them. “Rāju, You have saved our lives,” they said, and held My feet, bless them.
There was a Harijan boy in our class; even then I made no distinction at all. This caste, religion and colour has never been with Me, from long ago. He came. “Rāju, I am very poor; will you give me your books?” In those days the syllabus did not change from year to year. It stayed the same for up to five years. The same books. So I told him. “Look at the books first. You may do as you like,” I said, and he looked. Not a single page was crumpled. They were like new books. Then he said, “These are like new books. I do not have that much means. Rāju! I will give you twenty rupees,” he said. I said, “Friend, what I need is this. I am going to the Puṣpagiri festival. I have to serve there as a scout. Five rupees is enough for Me for ten days. For one anna you get four dosas in the morning, four dosas at midday and four dosas at night.” Today five rupees will not get you one dosa. I told him, “All I need is five rupees. I do not want your twenty rupees. Give Me five rupees and take these books,” I said. He felt a mountain of joy. “Really, if I had to buy these books, I would have had to borrow a great deal. So, Rāju, out of kindness to me you have given them very cheap,” he said, and went away happy.
So, students! I am telling you this story so that desire may be kept in check. In those days there were no one rupee notes or two rupee notes. He brought these five rupees too as a great bundle of dammiḍīs and annas. For the whole year I had only two shirts and two pairs of shorts. Because I came first in every class, the boys who failed hated Me. Somehow they would drag Me by My legs all the way from Bukkapatnam to Puṭṭaparti. “When we give the wrong answer, you too must give the wrong answer. You must not give the right one”: that was their stubbornness.